Chapter 17: Eve (VIP Announcement)

Chapter 17: The Eve (VIP Announcement)

The palace banquet was hushed.

All eyes and ears were on Qiao Qingni's performance.

Civil officials were utterly captivated, while even the usually boisterous military officers remained uncharacteristically silent.

Among the noble young women, some were filled with admiration, others with envy, and still others felt a pang of inferiority. Many young masters from prestigious families lamented Princess Zhaoyang's existing betrothal, yet their admiration for her was undeniable.

On the imperial throne, Qiao Heng's brow was deeply furrowed, lost in thought.

A connoisseur of music whispered, "Could this be the legendary 'Frost Mountain Dawn'?"

Qiao Wan, who had been about to rise, froze, remaining seated and staring blankly at Qiao Qingni.

It seemed she hadn't misheard—it truly was "Frost Mountain Dawn."

The very same "Frost Mountain Dawn" that Mu Chi had once played at the Songzhu Pavilion.

But how could Qiao Qingni know this piece?

For years, Qiao Qingni had dispatched people across Great Li to search for the score of "Frost Mountain Dawn" with no success. Yet, just two months after Mu Chi's appearance, she obtained it.

Was it mere coincidence?

Qiao Wan's thoughts swirled in disarray, her mind a chaotic jumble. Suddenly, she recalled the eve of her decision to retrieve the Snow Bodhi for Mu Chi, when she had held her zither and asked him to teach her "Frost Mountain Dawn."

At that time, Mu Chi had been uncharacteristically cold and stern with her, though his harshness was fleeting.

He had said: "This piece is not suitable for you, Princess."

Now, Qiao Wan had to concede that Qiao Qingni, before her, was perfectly suited to the piece, embodying the grace of a soaring phoenix.

Indeed, back at the Songzhu Pavilion, if she hadn't intervened with a bid of twenty thousand taels for Mu Chi, he would have been acquired by Qiao Qingni.

At that time, with numerous bidders, he had cast his gaze solely in Qiao Qingni's direction, hadn't he?

The discomfort in her chest, caused by the sachet's potent fragrance, had gradually subsided, yet Qiao Wan still felt a suffocating unease in her heart.

After what seemed an eternity, the music ceased. Following a profound silence, a wave of applause erupted.

Qiao Qingni rose gracefully, her demeanor charming yet dignified: "Father, I recently chanced upon the score for 'Frost Mountain Dawn.' Today, I play its prelude to offer to you, wishing you robust health and eternal longevity."

"It truly is 'Frost Mountain Dawn'?"

"Princess Zhaoyang is indeed blessed with great fortune."

"I heard 'Frost Mountain Dawn' and 'Cloud Robe Song' are twin melodies, and now Princess Zhaoyang has found both."

"..."

The murmurs of those around her drifted into Qiao Wan's ears. For the first time, a chill crept up from her fevered chest.

"Frost Mountain Dawn" and "Cloud Robe Song" were twin melodies.

Were they always meant to be a pair?

On the imperial throne, Qiao Heng's reaction diverged from the others. His expression was somewhat detached. He nodded to Qiao Qingni: "Qingni, you have shown thoughtfulness. You shall be rewarded."

Then, his gaze drifted to Qiao Wan nearby, and he leaned forward slightly: "Little Eleven, your complexion is so poor. Are you unwell? Come here and let me see."

The officials noted the emperor's differing treatment of the two princesses, silently acknowledging his deep affection for the Eleventh Princess, despite her lack of notable talents and her unrestrained conduct.

Qiao Qingni bit her crimson lip, casting a resentful glance toward Qiao Wan before retreating to her seat with the palace attendants.

Qiao Wan hadn't anticipated Qiao Heng calling her out at that moment. She shook her head, then nodded: "Father, my old ailment from some time ago hasn't fully healed. I fear I might transmit it to you, so I shall not approach."

Qiao Heng, unconcerned, looked at her with solicitude: "In that case, there's no need to linger at the banquet. The mountain worship ceremony is in a few days. Return home and rest well to recover." His gaze swept across the banquet hall. "I see the Jing boy is idle. Let him escort you back to your residence."

"No need," Qiao Wan stood up, then realized her rudeness before the officials. She forced a smile: "Father, there's no need to trouble Major General Jing. The princess's carriage is waiting outside..."

"Those servants never know what's important," Qiao Heng snorted, turning to Jing Lan. "Jing Lan, what do you think?"

Jing Rong was startled, turning to look at Jing Lan, who indeed had a deep frown, his face dark as he stared towards Princess Changle.

Jing Rong sighed inwardly, thinking that if Jing Lan refused, he could then smoothly mediate and resolve the marriage arrangement.

Unexpectedly, after a few moments of silence, Jing Lan stood up and clasped his hands: "I obey your command."

Jing Rong's eyes widened in astonishment.

Jing Lan shot a dark look at Qiao Wan, then turned and was the first to leave the banquet.

Qiao Wan was already vexed; now, having to deal with someone who might be her dream-killer only intensified her irritation.

Especially when, upon exiting the palace gates, she saw Jing Lan holding his horse, standing gloomily beside her carriage, clearly displeased about escorting her back.

Qiao Wan allowed Yicui to help her into the carriage, then opened the window to look at Jing Lan, who was mounting his horse: "Major General Jing, you can ride around the street and then return to the banquet. There's no need to escort me."

Jing Lan was taken aback, his expression darkening further: "What do you mean?"

Qiao Wan had no energy to argue, replying listlessly: "Sorry for delaying you from seeing Third Royal Sister. But if you hurry, you might still have time to speak with her."

Jing Lan let out an angry laugh, his tone laced with sarcasm: "Princess Changle can be this kind?"

Qiao Wan nodded: "Yes."

Jing Lan fell silent, so enraged that he gripped the reins and circled the carriage twice, yet he couldn't articulate why he was so upset.

From the moment she entered the palace, she had avoided him like the plague, a stark contrast to her daily dispatch of precious medicines to the general's residence. At the banquet, she had scanned the room, pointedly refusing to meet his gaze, and when she did, she offered a distant smile before looking away. Then, when the emperor ordered him to escort her back, she had refused without a second thought.

The more Jing Lan thought about it, the angrier he became.

Yet, he couldn't help but look at her, even when the Third Princess was playing her zither.

As if... she had bewitched him.

Jing Lan frowned deeply. Perhaps she really had put some bewitching drug in the expensive medicines she sent him.

Given her usual methods, nothing she did would surprise him.

"Really, Jing Lan," Qiao Wan said sincerely, seeing his dark expression and silence, "if you delay any longer, Third Royal Sister will leave..."

"Shut up," Jing Lan interrupted her angrily.

Qiao Wan pressed her lips together and actually fell silent obediently.

Only then did Jing Lan notice her extremely pale complexion. He was stunned for a moment, coughed awkwardly, and ordered the coachman: "Back to the residence."

Qiao Wan listened to the clip-clopping of hooves following the carriage outside and pouted. She'd told him to go back; he's the one who insisted on staying, so that's on him.

In no more time than it takes a stick of incense to burn, they had returned to the princess's residence.

Yet Qiao Wan remained leaning against the soft cushion, clutching the palace blanket, gloomy, her gaze distant and vacant, with no intention of getting out.

Her thoughts were a mess, unsure how to face Mu Chi.

If the matter of "Frost Mountain Dawn" was just a misunderstanding, fine. But what if it wasn’t? What should she do then?

Should she really do what she’d always said—break his legs if he dared betray her and keep him locked by her side forever? Or… let him go?

But neither choice felt right in her heart.

No, it was worse than that—it was agony.

The thought of hurting him was unbearable, but letting him go was just as unthinkable.

In those storybooks, the tales of scholars and maidens were always so romantic.

But no one had ever told her that having feelings for someone could hurt this much, even… leave you so tied up in knots.

"Princess?" Yicui, taking in her pale cheeks and red-rimmed eyes, assumed she was still upset about Princess Zhaoyang showing her up. She ventured softly, "Don't trouble yourself over Princess Zhaoyang’s affairs. Word is, in a couple months, she will be sent to Great Qi for a political marriage."

Qiao Wan snapped back to attention. She knew Yicui had misunderstood but didn't explain, she just smiled and moved to step down from the carriage. But the next moment, she stopped short.

Political marriage?

Actually, to keep someone by your side, perhaps there was no need to break their legs. There was another way…

Qiao Wan’s breath hitched. She immediately hopped out of the carriage, only to be startled by a man standing with his horse outside. Recognizing Jing Lan, she asked irritably, "Major General Jing, what are you still doing here?"

Jing Lan was taken aback, shot her a strange look before he flicked the reins and rode off.

Qiao Wan scoffed coldly at his retreating figure. How strange.

She turned and hurried into the estate, heading straight for the warm pavilion.

The manor was decked out in lanterns and decorations for the New Year festivities. The bare branches were draped with today’s light snow and bright red lanterns, while lanterns hanging under the eaves glowed softly.

As Qiao Wan entered the courtyard of the warm pavilion, she called out, "Mu Chi…"

But her words cut off abruptly as she pushed the door open, her hopeful anticipation vanished.

The room was empty. No one was there.

*

Outside the Xuanwu Gate at the rear of the palace lay a dense forest.

A man in purple official robes watched another man not far away. Amid the night and snow, he resembled a man-eating demon, enough to give anyone chills.

After a long while, the man turned his gaze, his eyes dark and unreadable. "Minister Wen, are you saying Qiao Heng intends to bestow a marriage?"

Wen Xun nodded. "Yes."

Mu Chi stood with his hands behind his back on the thin layer of snow, gazing at the tangled, withered branches in the distance.

A marriage between Qiao Wan and Jing Lan was nothing but good for Qiao Heng. Previously, he had been wary of the Jing family’s military power, but now that he knew the two had been seeing each other in secret, he was naturally thrilled. His rush to make it official was to be expected.

This marriage had been his doing. After the mountain sacrifice ceremony, everything would be settled. He should be happy.

By then, those uncontrollable emotions in his heart—the resentment at being disturbed by a woman like Qiao Wan—should vanish.

But he couldn’t help touching his chest, feeling empty.

No satisfaction or relief, just confusion.

"Could it be that Master Mu is reluctant?" Wen Xun asked softly after a long silence.

Mu Chi jerked back to the present, his eyes turning sharp and venomous. After a long moment, he let out a low laugh. "Is the Right Minister curious about me?"

Wen Xun paused, then simply lowered his eyes, cupped his hands in a bow, and turned toward the palace.

Si Li materialized quietly. "Young Master, Princess Zhaoyang said she would like to meet you another day to thank you in person for gifting the music score. Your thoughts…?"

Mu Chi didn’t respond, still staring ahead.

Marriage.

It was nothing more than bowing to heaven and earth, intimacy, and the wedding chamber—all forms of closeness that disgusted him even to imagine.

Even spending the rest of his life looking at the same face every day…

Someone as fickle as Qiao Wan would likely be driven mad by it.

"Young Master?" Si Li’s voice grew slightly louder.

Mu Chi’s focus returned, and he looked at him.

Si Li hurriedly bowed his head. "How would you like to respond to Princess Zhaoyang?"

Qiao Qingni.

Li Muxuan’s fiancée, the future crown princess of Great Qi.

And also…

Five years ago, when he was first brought out of the dungeon as a monstrous secret to accompany Li Muxuan to the Li Kingdom, she was the woman he caught a fleeting glimpse of.

"In a few days, it will be the Li Kingdom’s mountain sacrifice ceremony, right?" Mu Chi glanced sideways, his eyes dark as a deep pool.

"Yes."

The Li Kingdom’s mountain sacrifice was held at Yanming Mountain outside the northern city gate. The mountain wasn’t tall, but its terrain was somewhat complex.

And his men were stationed just beyond Yanming Mountain.

"I will infiltrate the mountain sacrifice ceremony," Mu Chi paused, "and when the time comes…"

Before he could finish, a long cry suddenly echoed overhead. The dark night was instantly illuminated as brilliant, colorful fireworks bloomed in the sky like meteors, dazzling and magnificent.

Far more grand and beautiful than anything he had ever seen in the dungeon.

"Mu Chi, let’s eat dumplings and watch the fireworks together."

He vaguely recalled Qiao Wan saying something like this before she entered the palace.

*

Jing Lan escorted Qiao Wan back to her residence, then lazily rode his horse through the empty streets.

On New Year’s Eve, it should have been a time for family reunions.

Yet the Jing family matriarch was not his birth mother, and the two had always maintained a respectful but distant relationship.

With his father still in the palace, he had no desire to return to the palace banquet. The hypocrisy and flattery there made him uncomfortable; he’d rather be in a casino where he felt more at ease.

But when he actually rode his horse to the casino and heard the shouts of dice rolling inside, he found it utterly boring.

Out of sheer boredom, Jing Lan’s hand brushed against the sachet in his sleeve. Staring at the characters "Wanwan" embroidered on it, he sadly realized that aside from his fair-weather friends who only knew how to eat, drink, and have fun, Qiao Wan was the only acquaintance he had outside the palace.

But no doubt Qiao Wan was spending the festival with Mu Chi.

People called him dissolute and spoiled, but Qiao Wan was clearly worse than him.

Jing Lan snorted coldly and kicked his horse’s flank. Soon, the horse neighed and came to a stop outside the Princess's residence.

Jing Lan told himself he was just there to return the sachet—he’d toss it into the courtyard and leave.

With a light tap on the saddle, he silently vaulted onto the wall, then paused.

Qiao Wan was sitting alone in the small pavilion, but on the table were two bowls of steaming dumplings.

Her expression lacked its usual arrogance, instead carrying a hint of loneliness. Bundled in a thick fox-fur cloak, she stared blankly at the magnificent fireworks blooming in the night sky.

Somehow… she looked rather pitiful.

Jing Lan quickly shook off these absurd thoughts. How could the notoriously spoiled and domineering Princess Changle, doted on by the emperor, ever be pitiful?

Just then, another firework exploded, right above his head.

Jing Lan froze.

Qiao Wan followed the direction of the firework, looked up, and met Jing Lan’s gaze on the wall.

The two stared at each other across the short distance.

After a moment, Jing Lan turned to leave.

"Stop!" Qiao Wan reacted, standing up and snapped. The loneliness from moments ago vanished without a trace.

Jing Lan’s back stiffened—so it was all an act after all.

In the moment he hesitated, guards had already surrounded the wall.

A short while later.

Qiao Wan dismissed the servants and silently looked at Jing Lan before her. "Breaking into the Princess's residence at night—Major General Jing, aren’t you afraid of death?"

Jing Lan’s expression faltered slightly, then he raised an eyebrow defiantly. "Princess Changle looked terribly pale when she stepped out of the carriage. I was worried the princess might have died in her residence and couldn’t account for it to His Majesty."

He dared to curse her.

Qiao Wan fumed, but then a thought struck her and she laughed. "I suppose Major General Jing returned to the palace banquet only to find that Third Princess ignored you and left, so you came here to vent your frustration on me?"

"Qiao Wan!" Jing Lan glared at her angrily. After a few moments of silence, he shot back with a provocative smile, "Why is Princess Changle all alone here? How pitiful."

Qiao Wan’s face paled slightly, and her gaze unconsciously drifted toward the direction of the warm chamber. Mu Chi still hadn’t returned.

After a long moment, she lifted her chin. "None of your business," she said, pursing her lips and shooting Jing Lan a disdainful look. "I have plenty of dumplings in my residence tonight, and it just so happens no one is eating them. I’ll give you a bowl."

As she spoke, she pushed the other bowl of dumplings toward him, lifting her head as if bestowing a favor. "This princess is granting it to you."

Jing Lan was taken aback, giving her a suspicious glance before looking down at the dumplings. His expression shifted slightly. "These messed-up dumplings—did you make them?"

Qiao Wan retorted irritably, "So what?"

Jing Lan curled his lip. "They’re ugly."

Qiao Wan glared at him. "Then give them back."

"No."

Qiao Wan: "…"

Watching Jing Lan eat like a slob, Qiao Wan rolled her eyes and took a bite of her dumplings. After a moment, she thought of something and mumbled around a mouthful, "Hey, why do you like Princess Qingni?"

Jing Lan’s hand, holding the spoon, paused. He glanced at her instinctively, then lowered his head. "She’s prettier than you, gentler than you, and more talented than you."

Qiao Wan lowered her gaze.

So that’s how it is. Would Mu Chi also like Qiao Qingni for those reasons…?

Unable to eat any more, Qiao Wan set down her fine porcelain bowl, masking her disappointment as she clapped her hands and stood up. "Alright, this princess has finished eating. You may leave now."

With that, she turned to go.

Jing Lan frowned slightly. "You—"

Unexpectedly, Qiao Wan stepped on the hem of her own fox-fur coat, losing her balance and stumbling forward uncontrollably.

Jing Lan instinctively reached out to catch her, but seated as he was, her full weight crashed into him, and they both tumbled to the ground.

Once again, Qiao Wan landed on top of Jing Lan, her face smashing into his chest. Her nose ached dully, and she felt dazed.

For a moment, both of them were frozen.

Fortunately, Qiao Wan recovered first this time. Just as she was about to get up, she remembered what she hadn’t managed to do last time. Gritting her teeth, she reached toward Jing Lan’s chest and yanked his collar open.

"Qiao Wan!" Jing Lan growled through clenched teeth.

But Qiao Wan was stunned, lying on top of him and staring blankly at his bare chest.

There was indeed a dark red birthmark there, but it wasn’t cross-shaped—instead, it resembled… a small mountain.

Jing Lan wasn’t the person from her dream.

But if it wasn’t Jing Lan, then who could it be?

Who else… had the power to launch a palace coup and was so infatuated with Qiao Qingni?

"What are the two of you doing?" A soft, low voice, icy and bone-chilling, came from outside the pavilion.

Qiao Wan’s hand, still clutching Jing Lan’s collar, jerked. A cold dread slowly crept up her spine.

That gentle yet cruel tone was eerily similar to the dream where that man had gripped her neck and smiled while saying, "The emperor has already died. Now it’s the little princess’s turn."

Qiao Wan remained lying on top of Jing Lan and turned her head.

Mu Chi stood in the dim light, clad in thin white robes, his eyes fixed intently on her, his expression unreadable.

The flickering candlelight outlined his tall, slender silhouette.

A strange sense of familiarity.

A note from the author:

Mu Zha: W! H! A! T! A! R! E! Y! O! U! D! O! I! N! G!

The scumbag's true colors will be revealed in the next chapter!

After discussing with the editor, we've decided that this story will become a VIP story starting tomorrow. There will be small cash rewards distributed then~

Thanks, everyone, for your constant comments and readership. Love you all!

Mwah~